There were tears in Elsie's eyes now, and she reached for the soiled little hand and gathered it tenderly into her gloved one. For the rest of that journey the motherless child had a friend. The baby slept on his father's shoulder; and Elsie devoted herself to making the five-year-old happy. Among other womanly offices, she took the child forward to the water-cooler, and by dint of patient use of handkerchief and some of her own sweet-scented soap, she made the small hands rosy with cleanliness. This was so that she could have a delicately tinted card from the lady's pocket. An illuminated card, with an outline picture of two hands clasped; the one a small, childish hand, the other large and firm, suggestive of strength and protection. There were words underneath, and the child demanded that they be read. It was one of Elsie's class cards, and the verse: "Who shall ascend into the Hill of the Lord, and who shall stand in His holy place? He that hath clean hands and a pure heart." "It means, who shall go to live with Jesus in heaven?" explained Elsie. The little girl looked gravely down at her small pink hands. "My hands are clean," she said, reflectively. "I guess I can go, mamma went. It was Jesus who took her." Elsie's eyes dimmed again as she answered the child gently, "Yes, and He wants you; wants you to keep your hands clean, so you can go. Not simply clean with water, you know, but clean from every wrong and naughty thing." The grave-eyed child considered. "I slap Johnnie, sometimes," she said, sadly, "when he's cross." "Oh! And that soils your hands with the kind of soil that water will not wash away. Look at the picture; that little hand is clasped in a strong one; the picture is to make you think of Jesus' hand; He holds it out for you to put yours in it, so He can keep it safe from getting soiled." "How?" said the child, looking puzzled. "Where is He? Why doesn't He hold His hand out to me?" "He does, darling; you cannot see it, nor feel it, because He has not given you the kind of eyes yet with which to see Him; but if you give your hand to Him, and then ask Him every day to keep it from doing wrong things, and make it clean, He will; and by and by He will take you up to Heaven, where mamma is, and where you can see Him, and feel the touch of His hand." Such sweet, serious eyes as that child had! She looked down at her small unmothered hand, in such a grave, considering way, as seemed almost too much for Elsie to bear; and at last she said, "I will do it; I mean to go to mamma." And the shadow of a smile was on her face—a serious little face, old beyond its years. Elsie did not wonder that the father wiped great tears away; but he grasped her hand heartily and said, "God bless you, ma'am, for showing the little girl how to smile. She hasn't smiled since—" and the sentence was left unfinished.